


Blasphemous Rumors

by ghostbutt



Category: Original Work
Genre: Choking, Church Sex, F/F, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28641246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbutt/pseuds/ghostbutt
Summary: Sam pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. She’d lost her again, fucking lost her inches before she’d had her. Lightning crackled around her in the air, pure static electricity dancing across her scarred forearms as she clutched at the torn fabric at her side. Her hand came away wet and bloody. She gritted her teeth and groaned in frustration. It wasn’t the first time Lovelace had disappeared into thin air right before her eyes and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last but fuck, was it frustrating. Especially when she had no clue how she did it.Set in a world with magical powers, a hunter clashes with her personal nemesis, a famous thief. This time though, everything is different when she recieves some unexpected... assistance.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Kudos: 9





	Blasphemous Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> you may be wondering about the title. well, I've been listening to a single song on repeat the entire time I've been writing and that song happens tpo be Depeche Mode's Blasphemous Rumours. Yes I Am Doing Well.

Sam pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. She’d lost her again, fucking lost her inches before she’d had her. Lightning crackled around her in the air, pure static electricity dancing across her scarred forearms as she clutched at the torn fabric at her side. Her hand came away wet and bloody. She gritted her teeth and groaned in frustration. It wasn’t the first time Lovelace had disappeared into thin air right before her eyes and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last but fuck, was it frustrating. Especially when she had no clue how she did it. 

The first time was when Sam had been nineteen, barely graduated. Young, pure and idealistic, a very agreeable young woman with a mild temper. But hunting Lovelace could do all sorts of things to a woman and the years had turned her hard and bitter as the thief evaded her again and again. Now when she looked into the mirror, the face that stared back was exhausted, a blank, hard customer service smile under dark, tired eyes. She’d never slept particularly well and that hadn’t changed with time. She wore her hair, a mess of jet black curls, short and rarely took the time to style it, neither did she try to make anything else about herself look particularly nice. Sam was not a snack to be devoured. Oh no. 

Sam Saavedra was a hunter. People with a gift like hers usually were, trained in the arcane arts until they were old enough to serve their old masters and uphold the peace. Gifts like Sam’s were particularly prized, for their practicality and for their violence. She’d grown accustomed to the smell of burning flesh at a very young age. Sometimes others but more often than not hers. Once the electricity left her fingertips it was hard to control where it went, but she’d been taught to live with it. It was fine. 

The straps around her torso and thighs that held her knives suddenly felt extremely constricting and she became very aware of her exhaustion. Tired and lost she dragged her body into the next building she saw, oblivious to the thick trail of dark blood that followed her. It was a church, long abandoned by whoever had once tended to it. The carpet was dusty and the rows of benches were rotten and upended but the altar still shone a pristine white marble. Sam came to rest on the stairs below it, resting her back against the cold stone and wondering what she’d tell her master. 

She shed her long, black leather coat and unfolded the small medi kit from one of the pockets. The iodine stunk and stung like hell on the raw flesh and the thin gauze was barely enough to cover the whole gash but it would have to do. The Gifted healed a hell of a lot faster than the others anyways and even if she didn’t, somebody else could probably do her job just as well. Hunt Lovelace. Get hurt. Rinse and repeat. 

Just as she was contemplating her monotonous life and wrapping up the cuts and burns on her body, she heard a voice echo through the empty hall. 

“You know, I do regret having to leave you like this.” a lascivious drawl reverberated from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “But the scars do suit you so very well.” 

The slender form of Lovelace appeared on the mezzanine, long arms dangling over the balustrade as the thief leaned on what seemed like thin air. Long, white hair draped over narrow, black-clad shoulders down to a thin waist and unreasonably long legs in shiny, black boots. The lanky frame belied an unreasonable strength and Sam instinctively raised her fists, lighting already beginning to spark. 

“I didn’t think you had it in you to kill.” Sam spat at her nemesis. There was blood in her mouth, painting her teeth red as she spoke. “But if that’s what you’re here for, do me a solid and hurry up, I really don’t need your theatrics, Lovelace.”

“Aaaaw, somebody’s a sore loser.” Lovelace smiled with a wolfish grin, body angling closer over the railing until the thief dropped down to Sam’s level, landing gracefully right before the hunters feet. “But when it’s just the two of us you can call me Lana.” 

Her face was now inches away from Sam and the hunter could see the rings of blue fire in Lovelace’s - Lana’s eyes. Her lips were crooked upwards in a thin mockery of a smile as she appeared to drink in Sam’s appearance, weary from a day too long and spent from their fight. A sick sort of satisfaction seemed to sweep across her face and she bit her lips in delight. Lana dropped down into a squat a step under Sam. 

“I came to hand this back to you. It’s just no fun to keep it around when you’re not even trying to take it from me.” She dropped a large, glowing stone on the floor and sighed. Then she glanced back up at Sam who returned her look perplexed. 

“You’re doing this for fun?” she asked, picking up the rock and twisting it in her hand.

Lana stared back equally confused. “What else would I do it for? Most of the things I’ve been taking are practically worthless, that’s no way to make an income. Although…” the thief bit her lip again, her eyes travelling from Sam’s eyes downwards over her neck, her arm, towards the hand that held the stone. “...to say I did this for my own enjoyment would be a bit of a… ah, well, it would be a lie, wouldn’t it?” She raised her hand towards Sam’s face and grasped her chin between two slender fingers, gently pulling her closer to her own pale, grinning face. “It’s for you. It’s all for you.”

Sam was suddenly violently aware of Lana’s proximity, her face eerily close to her own, her fingers barely grazing the skin of her cheek and neck. She knew her gift, the blue fire that lay under her skin and could break out and burn her at any second. She hated this woman. With a passion. A passion hot as blue fire and sharp as lightning. She couldn’t count the scars and broken bones on her body, so many of them because of this awful, insolent creature. And now she had the audacity to… 

“You made my life hell. For what?” she spat at the woman across from her. In turn, her grip on her jaw tightened and she leaned forward, balancing with one hand on the ground between Sam’s thighs. 

“Ah, but you always followed through the flames.” 

This woman. This unbelievable monster of a woman. Sam felt nausea claw at her stomach, suddenly sick with vertigo. She didn’t reply and Lana, in turn, also stayed silent, her eyes still on Sam’s hand. Sam, in turn, let hers wander the body of the thief in front of her. She’d never seen her this close. Lovelace was just as limber up close as she’d seemed from afar but now Sam could see the muscles pushing through the fabric at her arms and neck. The collar was raised up to her face which, Sam noticed, had traded its usual blank paleness for a soft pink. She was blushing. The brassy little shit had the audacity to blush. 

Fire welled up in Sam’s veins, reminding her of just who she was. In one motion, she broke free of Lana’s grasp on her face and pushed back, knocking the thief over on the floor. Sam braced for impact as her knees hit cold stone and her hand found the thief’s neck, her thumb pushing into the veins Sam knew would be there. She felt hot blood under her fingers and as Lana twisted under her Sam finally saw the smug smile fall off her face and be replaced by something much, much different. Wide eyes stared at her from a shocked, reddened face. As Sam leaned down to speak, she felt Lana’s breath on her cheek in short, uneven gasps. 

“You don’t get to do this.” Sam hissed into her ear. “You don’t get to push your shit on me. Tell me it’s my fucking fault one more time. Tell me. Come on. Let me hear every single word. I want to hear you say it.” She inched lower, until her lips almost hit skin. “Say that it’s all for me.”

Under her Lana gasped. The thief, restrained between Sam’s thighs and under her hands brought her face upwards as far as she could, mouth ghosting over the hunter’s cheek. “Oh, Saavedra, my pretty little bloodhound.” Sam felt her smile against her skin, hot breath making her shiver. “It’s for you. It’s all for you.” 

Suddenly, before Sam could understand it herself, her lips were on Lana’s, crushing her mouth. She slid down her body, not once removing her hand from Lana’s neck, not once stopping for air as he bruised her lips. Sam knew she tasted like blood right now. She wanted Lana to taste it on her tongue, to feel the cuts on her lips. The woman under her was too soft, tasted too sweet to be this rotten. She needed to feel the pain she’d engraved on Sam, every single scar. She needed to see it, feel it, understand it… kiss it. Caress it. She needed to trail her lips along the fresh, pink skin because if it really was all for her, well then Sam would do as Lovelace did and take everything she could get. Her face grew heated as she felt her mouth violently bruise the thief’s lips who, in turn brought her leg upwards just the smallest bit. Sam’s body responded before her mind could, heat pooling within her, craving touch. She ground downwards, enjoying the friction but withholding her moan, choosing instead to bite down hard on Lana’s lip. She tasted blood, sweet and metallic.

And Sam fainted.

-

When Sam opened her eyes again, the first thing she noticed was that her shirt was pushed up, exposing the bandages at her midriff. The second thing she noticed was that she was no longer on the ground but gently positioned within the arms of one Lana Lovelace who seemed busy adjusting a much sturdier bandage over the gash in her side, her eyes glazed over. When she noticed Sam’s still somewhat disoriented look, she stopped and readjusted the hunter’s shirt. 

“Was that me?” her voice was quiet, a far cry from the boisterous tone Sam had grown so used to hearing and hating.

She heaved a heavy sigh and freed herself from Lana’s hold. “No. It’s old.” That was a lie. The cut was barely hours old, from a fight with a robber this morning. She hadn’t been briefed correctly. The young man had had a gift of steel and his knives had cut cleanly through the fine mesh armor under Sam’s black wool turtleneck. She should have gone to the hospital but when she got the call about Lovelace - 

Sam glanced at the thief’s face. She seemed absolutely crestfallen, much to the hunter’s surprise. “It tore open when I was chasing you. But it was there long before that.” She scoffed. “I don’t see why you would care, though. You’ve burnt me enough times by now.”

“I try not to.” 

“Oh fuck off.”

Sam hoisted herself up on the altar, her feet dangling from the stone slab. Lana stayed seated on the ground, completely still. Something was missing, Sam thought, something wasn’t right. But of course absolutely nothing was right. Lana Lovelace, the greatest thief she’d ever known squatted on the stairs, white hair fanned out behind her and over her clothes in a beautiful whirl of black and white and she wasn’t moving, barely even looking at her. And Sam… battered and broken, tired physically and emotionally. Even if her wounds weren’t hurting anymore, she’d still lost too much blood to have to deal with this right now. She groaned. 

Lana’s head snapped around, some of their usual twinkle unexpectedly returned to them. 

“You kissed me.” A smile played around her lips. 

“I did.” And Sam was ashamed to admit it but she had liked it. She’d have to deal with that later. Or maybe never. 

“Let me make it up to you then. The times I did hurt you” By now the fire had returned to her eyes and Sam noticed her chewing the inside of her cheek in contemplation. 

“How would you go about that, then?” 

“Well…” 

Lana turned around on her knees, now fully facing the altar. Sam felt hungry eyes sweeping her body, from her ankles upwards over her soft thighs, breasts and face. The woman below her crawled up the stairs, not getting up to face her quite yet. Instead, her only focus seemed to be Sam’s heavy boots, which she now untied with great care and slow, deliberate movements. She emphasized every touch of her long, careful fingers, so gentle and warm against the dirty, rugged leather. When her shoes were finally off, Lana placed them on the ground next to her. She looked up at Sam, biting her lip, motionless for a second before resting her hands on Sam’s knees and gently nudging them apart, her touch only a featherlight suggestion. Sam complied, feeling the nervousness tangle in her stomach and melt into something she did not fully understand, until Lana’s hands began travelling further upward, thumbing the button of her tight pants. Sam replied to her unasked question by shifting closer to the edge of the altar, closer to Lana. She felt the same heat within her as she had felt before, an urgency overtaking her as need pooled low in her belly. She felt slickness, the pressure of a desire not tended to and most of all, she felt heated lust, examining the thief between her legs, obviously willing to fulfill her every wish.

The traitorous blush had crept back onto the thief’s face who, almost self-consciously, buried her face in Sam’s lower leg as she undid the button with suspicious swiftness. She wouldn’t have expected anything less of a thief, Sam thought and then thought nothing more because the woman on the floor in front of her had carefully undressed her long, scarred legs and was now carefully examining it with both her gentle fingers and -oh- her hot, reckless mouth, littering small kisses on the patches of thin skin. Her lips still ghosting a small, long-forgotten wound, she whispered against Sam’s skin, breath warm against the cold church air. 

“You really are quite beautiful, you know that?” 

Sam’s breath hitched in her throat but Lana did not seem to care. She continued her careful ministrations, moving painfully slowly up her hunter’s legs. She devoted herself to every little inch of scar tissue, lavishing it with gentle kisses as her hands smoothed down Sam’s thighs, creeping close to the center of heat within her but never quite touching, never giving her the release she so desperately wanted. Instead, her mouth never once strayed from her skin, not until Sam found herself whimpering impatiently. She blushed in embarrassment as Lana glanced up and locked eyes with her, smiling far too gently. 

The thief stood up in one, fluid movement and positioned herself right in front of Sam, her head nearly touching Lana’s chest. When she leaned down to gently capture the hunter’s lips in a kiss, Sam angled her body lower to the altar, nearly lying down. She felt Lana tugging at her shirt and impatiently pulled it over her head, breaking their kiss. She was met with a breathy “oh” and wide, hungry eyes, taking in her entire body. Sam leaned up to kiss her thief again, roughly biting at her lower lip, but her pleasure was short-lived. The thief freed her lips and gently held Sam at the small of her back, lowering her down onto the cold marble. 

“Trust me.” Lana stared deeply into her eyes as she seemed to levitate inches over Sam’s body and all the hunter wanted was to pull her down and kiss her breathless, kiss her until she forgot who she was, what she was, until there was nothing but them and white-hot pleasure. But when she reached up to tug at the thief’s collar, she grasped them and effortlessly pinned them over Sam’s head. 

“Not quite yet, my little bloodhound.” a thin smile played at Lana’s lips and when she removed her hold on Sam’s wrists she kept her hands raised above her on the cold stone. 

“Good girl” Sam muttered into her neck, gently biting down, eliciting a sharp hiss from Sam. In quiet apology, she gently smoothed over the skin with her lips, pressing little kisses along Sam’s torso as she caressed down Sam’s body, closer, closer, until her lips reached the line of her panty.

Instead of removing the thin, already soaked fabric she grazed her fingers over the source of the wetness, gently brushing at the skin. Sam moaned, feeling her body respond to the friction and Lana responded by splaying one hand on her abdomen, keeping her pinned down to the altar as she knelt down between her legs and slowly, torturously removed the piece of cloth keeping her from finally claiming her prize. 

Sam gasped as the cold air hit her wet, flushed skin and moaned as it was covered just as quickly by Lana’s hot, soft mouth. Her tongue parted her folds gently and went exploring, excruciatingly slow and deliberate with her movements as she licked up and down around her throbbing clit, never quite long enough, never quite hard enough, instead teasing the slick bundle of nerves with featherlight touch until Sam whispered in desperation. 

“Please… I need you.”

And Lana gave in to her wish. Oh, how sweetly she gave in to her wish. Sam gasped in pleasure when Lana covered her with her mouth, gently sucking on her clit, then smoothing her tongue over it. Her hand was still on Sam’s hip, holding her down as her legs shook in pleasure while her other hand now came up to assist her mouth in its worship. Her long, smooth fingers first traced the wet folds, following the motions of her tongue, then one finger dipped inside her and carefully curled upwards, making Sam scream in surprise. Lana looked up from her work, never once pausing in her ministrations and as she locked eyes with Sam, the hunter could feel her moan against her clit, the vibrations almost sending her to the edge. 

“You taste so sweet, my little bloodhound” the thief murmured against her twitching flesh, while a second finger slowly circled her entrance. 

“You wanted me to say something to you, didn’t you?” Lana had two fingers inside her now, curling up against that hot, tight center of desire inside her while her tongue rubbed against her swollen clit in merciless pleasure. Sam gasped, then moaned when her hunter’s fingers took more liberty, gently scissoring her open in synchronous movement with her mouth. 

“It’s all for you, Sam. It’s all for you.” With these words Lana thrust her fingers deep inside Sam, perfectly finding her sweet spot, meanwhile sucking hard on her clit. She wanted to feel Sam come undone under her and Sam complied without question, giving in to the white-hot pleasure. She heard her moan echo through the room, hips shaking under Lana’s hand while the woman before her continued to rub her wet, hot parts through her orgasm. Waves of molten lust and ice and sweet, sinful pressure coursed through her and set her body on fire and made her scream and gasp and press closer- closer- closer until she hit a peak. With a final, long moan she came. 

When the waves finally ebbed down, she felt sated, but extremely exhausted. Through the haze, she noticed Lana staring up at her with adoring eyes, gently rubbing her thigh and occasionally pressing a chaste kiss to her warm skin. When she caught her gaze, the thief spoke up, almost hesitantly. 

“I should leave, then…”

“No.” Sam said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

“Stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is technically just a writing excercise because I've never written smut before, so if you did read this and found it somewhat enjoyable I would love a comment with some constructive criticism (or stroke my ego a little, I'm never opposed to that)


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